Elevators
by Little Horatio
Summary: Ever wondered what else you can do with an elevator? Our CSIs did…including Stetler! Find out what and laugh! CHAP 7! Horatio's...CHEATING!
1. Misbehavior

Title: Elevators

Author: Little Horatio

Warning: filled with humor…lots and lots of humor…BEWARE!!

Summary: Ever wondered what else you can do with an elevator? Our CSIs did…including Stetler!

Disclaimer: As much as I don't want to admit it…I don't own CSI: Miami…or your soul…

Author's Note: Now…where to begin? Oh, yeah! This new fic I made came up when my little sister, kiuna'yukina and yours truly got bored. We had an idea and decided to entertain ourselves with the help of Mr. Elevator. We did all kinds of nonsense inside the stupid thing and made a complete fool of ourselves, especially me (a janitor saw me doing something stupid). What did I do, you ask? Secret! Don't frown! Of course, I won't tell you! That would spoil everything!

Okay, moving on. I had a tiny problem posting this fic because of a certain SOMEONE I know who wouldn't stop COMPLAINING and keeps on DISTRACTING me every chance she gets whenever I bring up the damn topic! (Clears throat) Like I said, we—WE! YOU HEAR ME, KIUNA'YUKINA?!—had the idea about the elevator thing and we've been bickering about who gets credit for it once I ("EYE!") post it on I think I should get credit for this--SHUT UP, KIUNA'YUKINA! I'M NOT FINISHED! Mainly because, I came up with everything and wrote, well, everything…and, uh…she didn't. HA! HA!

But (and that's a big BUTT!)…out of the goodness of MY heart, I'll let her take all the credit. Why, you ask? Simply because I'm a good and thoughtful friend who will do anything to make a certain SOMEBODY OUT THERE happy without, at all, hesitating. That's me; give and give, that's all I do.

No, seriously, you guys, all joking aside, Kiuna'yukina does deserve some credit. Without her, I would be bored out of my skull and wouldn't be able to make all of the stories you seem to be enjoying. She gives me her laughter and support, and, most of all, her ever-loving smile…I love that WACKO!

Ooops! I've taken too much of your time! Sorry! And…ENJOY!!

Main Characters: Horatio Caine, Rick Stetler, Calleigh Duquesne, Timothy Speedle, Eric Delko, Ryan Wolfe, Alexx Woods, and Dan Cooper.

* * *

Chapter 1: Misbehavior

The two CSIs came through the doors of MDPD together and, after a few smiles and exchange of usual morning greetings, they continued their way to the elevator.

Eric frowned.

"What's with the face, Eric?" asked a curious Calleigh, an amused smile escaping her lips.

"I was just thinking," he said with a shrug, indicating that there wasn't anything wrong.

"About what?"

"Elevators," he said while looking right at one. He turned to Calleigh and sees the look she gives him. "Well…haven't you ever wondered what else we can do with them?

"I never really bothered thinkin' about somethin' like that," she said, then begins to ponder. "I just saw elevators as machines that transports either equipment or people."

They both got on the elevator as it opened its welcoming doors. Eric pressed the number of the floor which was the crime lab while he kept on thinking about how to make other uses for the famous and yet oh so boring elevator.

Then, it hit him.

"Want to find out what else we can do with this elevator?" asked Eric, wearing a big grin on his face. "Right now?"

Calleigh recognized the mischievous glint shining in his brown eyes and couldn't help but grin back.

"Why not?"

With that, Eric—with lustful eyes and a toothy smirk—cornered Calleigh. He placed his hands on her hips and gently pushed her back, causing her to _accidentally_ hit the emergency stop button…his body pressing against hers.

They both smiled broadly at each other as they felt the elevator come to an immediate stop while they stared deeply at each other's eyes, lips centimeters away.

People who were waiting at the Crime Lab floor began to stir as they perceived the bleeping noise and became aware of the blinking red lights of the elevator and the fact that the machine abruptly halted.

Some were starting to get worried and started to ask questions.

"What happened?"

"What's going on?"

"I think there's a problem, don't you?"

By the time they were about to get answers, the bleeping noise and the blinking lights stopped and faded.

After a few seconds, the elevator dinged and opened its doors to let its early passengers out to their desired floor. And out came a disheveled ballistics expert, buttoning her blouse and then fixing her tousled blonde hair, while being followed by an expert diver who was hastily putting on his long-sleeved shirt with his unbuckled belt making a clanging noise as they swayed limply from his unbuttoned denims and half-closed zipper.

The empty elevator slowly closed its doors and lowered itself down as the police officers, lab techs, visitors and investigators silently gaped at the two who just got out and walked away like nothing obscene and unexpected had happened.

Images—DIRTY IMAGES—began pouring out of their minds like a category 5 storm. Of course, nobody confessed to such an act, albeit they hinted everybody did.

Unbeknownst to the gullible group of unclean minds, Calleigh had a really big problem of keeping a straight face, and so did Eric. Hurriedly and inconspicuously, they increased their pace and headed straight to the locker room.

Still a few feet away, Calleigh couldn't help but ask, "You think they fell for it?"

"Who wouldn't?" sniggered Eric quietly while keeping up with her and buttoning his shirt.

The second they entered the locker room, the two burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter as they recalled the looks on the faces of their victims as they walked out the elevator, looking like they had just made out.

"We should do this more often," Eric blurted out once the laughter subsided. He glanced at Calleigh.

She gave him a smile, knowing what was really on her fellow CSI's mind. She remembered the look on his face when she unbuttoned the top of her blouse and messed up her hair when they were inside the elevator, "misbehaving."

"You wish, Delko."

* * *

Little Horatio: So…how was it? I have a lot more to give if you guys are up for it. Chapter 2, 3, and 4 are all waiting for their moment of glory. Just let me know if you guys want more, and I'll gladly post it.

Hey, kiuna'yukina!! There! I kept my promise! They're all there!

How's Irene, Kevin and the beaver doing? Bored to death yet? I'm not! (Heh). Good luck with your Filipino Thesis papers!! I know you guys can do it!! I'm too lazy to make mine, so…YAY!


	2. Panic Attack

**Chapter 2: Panic Attack**

The only thing Ryan Wolfe could do right now was sigh in relief.

He had just got out of his appointment from the doctor concerning about his eye and was told that it was his last check-up.

He couldn't have been happier.

He quickened his pace and hurriedly went inside the elevator and closed the doors with a push of a button before anybody could board with him.

He was glad he was alone. His obsessive-compulsive impulses had been nagging at him for the last hour and a half, and although he had regained a little control, the disorder was still overwhelming. And even without the OCD, he still had other issues to deal with…like his health.

Hospitals always creeped him out, and he was more than willing to leave.

Ever since he was a boy, the damn place always scared him, all those germs, illnesses, sick people, and…germs. Just thinking of them made him shudder.

He always kept a distance between him and everything else that had entered or exited the hospital. Crime scenes—bloody, messy, out-of-this-world crime scenes—THAT he can handle. But, dealing with all those sick people and the possibility of attaining all kinds of diseases and infections—NO, THANK YOU! He'd rather help Alexx out at the autopsy room for a month! HELL! He'd even be willing to volunteer for decomp duty if it comes to that.

'But, no worries,' he said to himself, 'I'll be out of Miami-Dade Teaching Hospital in no time!'

Making himself more gleeful, he added as a joke, 'Providing this elevator doesn't break down on me.'

He giggled at his own silent joke.

Standing in the middle of the elevator for the past couple of seconds now, he began to wonder why it was taking awhile for him to get to the first floor.

He started to get impatient.

At that moment, the elevator made a violent shudder, making him lose his balance. The lights were flickering, and before he could do anything, the shuddering and flickering stopped.

Too bad it didn't ease his sense.

He heard a ding and was expecting the doors to slide open, but nothing happened. He waited, thinking it was just a mere delay.

The elevator took another jolt and started to move again, going down.

"Come on," Ryan said impatiently, looking at the numbers above him. He started to tap his fingers at his sides, frustrated. "Come on."

For the second time, the elevator—which Ryan now considers as a stupid machine—made an abrupt stop at a certain floor and made the dinging sound. And still the steel doors in front of him did not open nor did it move.

"Hello?" Ryan called out, taking two steps and tapping a finger on the cold metal. "Can anybody hear me? Hello?"

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Nobody was answering him and to his annoyance, the doors were still closed!! And his light tapping became noisy pounding when he was beginning to get all panicky.

"Hello?!" he shouted. "Anybody? I think the elevator's broken!!"

Unbeknownst to the young CSI, the doors on the OTHER SIDE of the STUPID MACHINE were wide open and several individuals were about to step in but then heard him talking to himself, pounding. They silently stared at him, watching him hammer away at the innocent opposite doors.

One of them, a young woman, was about to call Ryan's attention when her young male friend stopped her by grabbing her shoulder and placing a finger on his lips making a silent shushing noise accompanied by a shake of his head.

"HEY!!" Ryan continued, still oblivious to the exit BEHIND HIM. "The elevator's jammed! I can't get out!! HELLO?!"

The male gestured for them to leave as he heard a ding. And as they slowly backed away with the doors shutting, he raised a finger and began circling it around his ear, indicating what he thought about the person inside the elevator.

"Psycho."

"What was that?!" Ryan exclaimed, his head twisting from left to right in a swift motion. He saw nothing. "Great…now, I'm hearing voices."

He felt another tremble and, again, the stupid machine moved. He began pacing in circles, feeling a little claustrophobic.

He was being held captive by a faulty elevator!!

"HEY! Somebody!" he yelled, frantic to get out, his voice echoing and his pounding getting louder. "Help! The elevator's broken! The doors won't open! Get me outta here! HELLO?!"

A minute of complete desperation and hopelessness passed and he was getting nowhere.

For the third time, the elevator halted, announcing a ding. Already anxious to get the hell out of the stupid machine and feeling claustrophobia settle in, he clenched his fists harder, hammering and yelling for help at the same time.

"HELP! PLEASE! The doors are stuck! They won't open! I need to get out of here! Somebody!"

As Ryan went on about his desperate plea for help—and getting carried away, I might add—the open doors at the opposite side revealed a gruff looking older man with untidy brown hair and deep vexed eyes with dark circles underneath. He was wearing a wrinkly shirt, a leather jacket, a pair of jeans, an unshaved face and a tired look. He was also carrying a blue black pack and was leaning on a cane for support.

And OH MAN was he not in the mood for idiotic occurrences!

He frowned at the sight before him and couldn't believe his luck.

There was an idiot inside the elevator!!

He rolled his eyes and couldn't believe the young stranger, who kept shouting his lungs out for help, wanting to get out.

He heaved out a sigh proclaiming his utter irritation.

Still the young man didn't hear him.

Finally getting fed up with the stupidity and the fact that the guy was already panting, he called the young psycho's attention as nicely as he can.

"Oh, for the love of—HEY, GENIUS!! Behind you!"

Scared out of his wits, Ryan swiveled and, wide-eyed, saw the stranger that called his attention and who was giving him a look. His face went beet red.

The stranger using the cane limped inside and Ryan hurriedly stepped outside, fully aware that he had just made a complete fool out of himself.

How the hell can he forget that hospital elevators had two entrance and exits?!?!?!?!?

The untidy looking grump jabbed a button using his cane and before the doors closed, he shouted, "Next time you come here, I suggest the Psyche ward upstairs!"

Ryan lowered his head, trying to hide his face as he hurriedly walked out the building, his face as red as a tomato. He had just made an ass out of himself.

"Why do these things happen to me?"

…………………………………………………………………………

Little Horatio: Hey, everybody! As usual, I'm hoping you liked the chap! Man, Ryan's got to loosen up! And I know that all of you have figured out who the misanthropic prick that pointed out the exit was! Unfortunately, Ry didn't.

Wait for the next chap! It'll be fun! And reviews will be much appreciated!!


	3. Accidental Pulloff

**Chapter 3: Accidental Pull-off**

Dan Cooper got back to MDPD after taking his lunch. Going in and heading straight for the elevator, he had only one thing in his mind; finishing his work. He thought that if he did, it would probably solve their homicide case and it was going to be all thanks to him. He couldn't wait.

And, yet, to his annoyance, as he came in the elevator, the irksome ticking noise was still there. It was there the last time he used he went in and that was about an hour ago. And although he was only going to be inside for a limited amount of time, he just couldn't spend another second listening to the grating noise. 

He was getting sick of it.

Dan poked his head out the metal doors, glancing form left to right, making sure that there was nobody coming in with him. He drew his head back and glanced down at his wristwatch, checking the time. Pressing a button, the metal access was shutting so he readied himself. Knowing that he only had a few seconds to do it, he did not waste any time.

Noticing that the unbearable ticking noise came from the roof of the pulley, he started there. Immediately leaping upwards, the young AV expert roughly tapped the top, his knuckles hitting the lid, making a popping sound. Then, he took another huge leap and caught the edges of the square opening. Having little to no difficulty at all, he hoisted himself up.

'So all those pull-ups did pay off,' he thought, remembering the advice Eric gave him about catching the ladies with muscular arms. It didn't work for him though.

The moment he was on the roof of the elevator, he accidentally inhaled a ton of dust, making him sneeze and getting himself covered entirely. He looked like a human sized dust bunny with all the filth. 

Setting aside all the dirt, he felt silly. The thought came to mind that he looked like a spy with the way he was acting and getting himself inside the elevator shaft with the elevator still moving. (And that was all because of some stupid racket, no less). But he had no time to ponder right now; he needed to find the mysterious ticking noise.

"Where, where, where?' he said inside his head, looking around. The lack of light made it hard for him to see clearly, so he ran his hands on every surface of the unclean roof.

"Got it!" he cried out when he felt an irregular object come in contact with his hands.

He quickly made a grab for it, not bothering to take a look as he became aware of the elevator's stillness and silence.

The steel doors slid open and the people on the floor saw how empty it was, which seemed to them as odd.

'Now, why would an elevator go to this particular floor and open all on its own?' they wondered. Surely if somebody pressed the button to make the thing end up on the crime lab floor, they would've entered by now, or exited.

And just then, something dropped from above, followed by a cloud of dust.

It was the Audio Visual expert, Dan Cooper.

And the second his feet hit the base of the elevator, shaking it a little, as if on cue, somebody called him and set off his ring tone, the theme song of Mission Impossible filling the atmosphere.

He didn't know people were staring at him as he went out the elevator before it closed itself shut. He began dusting himself off, patting the sleeves of his white T-shirt, continuing down to his dark slacks, his other hand holding the object he had found.

'Who the hell would put a metronome on the roof of the elevator!' Dan screamed inside as he held it up.

Everyone, agape, watched him straighten up and run a hand through his brown dusty hair. He then walked away as if nothing had happened, his ring tone of Mission Impossible still loud and following.

Where in the hell did he come from?

What's with the Mission Impossible look?

And why, in heaven's name, was he carrying a metronome, of all things?

And as if that wasn't enough, Eric and Ryan came out of nowhere, going at it with each other.

"You hid my metronome in the elevator!" erupted Ryan, looking very pissed.

"No," said Eric with a shake of his head. "I left it ON the elevator."

"WHAT?" exploded the younger CSI. "What the hell, Eric!"

"Come on! It was a good idea!" said Eric, reasoning. "I used to do it with my buddies when we were in college! It annoys people!"

"They won't hear the damn thing, Eric!" Ryan told him. There was no way you can here a metronome with all the noise the elevator was making.

"Hey!" Eric warned, pointing a finger. "Do not underestimate the powers of the all-annoying metronome."

"How am I supposed to get it back?"

"Don't worry," the young Cuban said, waving a hand to close the matter. "It's not like somebody would just go up and grab the thing in less than 12 seconds and pull-off a Mission Impossible."

"Well, yeah," agreed Ryan angrily in his isn't-that-obvious tone. "Only Tom Cruise can do that."

…………………………………………………………………..

Little Horatio: Okay, okay! I didn't actually do that when we were playing with the elevator. It's hard! And I don't wanna get caught pulling the stupid stunt. Though it would actually be pretty cool…maybe, I should give it a go.

So? How was it? Good, yes? I hope so. Just let me know, okay? And thank you for having the time to read this. Hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Infantilism

**Chapter 4: Infantilism**

The look on Timothy Speedle's face crossed the usual boundaries of mild annoyance as he made his way to the elevator.

He'd had enough.

'_Bring this for lab analysis, Speed. I need the results—ASAP.'_

'_Remember, Speed; proper gun maintenance. Make it a routine.'_

'_Timmy, what did I tell you about riding your death machine? I know it's called a Ducati—let me finish!'_

'_Hey, Speedle. Next time you think about wasting my time…don't.'_

'_Speed! I told you to meet me at the crime scene! Where were you?'_

'_Hey, Tim. Buy me some muffins would you? Remember. I like blueberry.'_

He stomped inside and immediately closed the doors with a push of a button before anyone could join him.

The second the metal doors shut, the young CSI threw a whining fit.

"Speed, do this! Speed, do that! Tim, I need this! Tim, I need that!" he said, his voice all squeaky as he went on. The annoyance that had grown big inside of him needed to be released, and this was the only way he could let go of his pent-up frustration without accidentally breaking or killing somebody in the process.

"I am sick and tired of people telling me what to do and how to live my life! It's driving me crazy!" Speed shouted to no one in particular. He felt his loud voice bounce back several times because of the small space.

On and on, people around him, especially his team mates, kept pestering him about the things he did. And, unsurprisingly, he found it very annoying. He knew they weren't doing it on purpose—well, except for Stetler—and that they only cared. And they sure as hell didn't know that it vexed him to the point of insanity.

But…enough is enough!!

Speed searched in the pockets of his leather jacket and took out his pair of sunglasses. He then, hurriedly put them on, as well as a serious face, and started to pour out his sentiments…as precisely as he could.

"Speed," he started, making a stance and deepening his voice as he imitated none other than his boss, Horatio Caine. "There's nothing wrong about the way you handle the evidence. I know you're doing the best you can, it's just that…it would be best if you stuck to procedure, okay?"

He took off the shades and said, using his normal voice, "Look, H. What I do, is what I do. And if what I do solves the case faster, then there's nothing wrong with it, so just lay off and freakin' deal with it, okay?"

Finished with his first, he rolled up his sleeves to his elbow, wore an arrogant face and, copying his best friend's voice, he spoke, "Hey, Speed, forget about your books and help me out with the ladies tonight. You're my wingman, right?—blah! Blah! BLAH!"

Speed shifted to his usual lazy-eyed are-you-kidding-me expression and said as he fixed the sleeves of his jacket and shirt, "Delko, look man, for once in your life, commit yourself to only one girl. Stop disturbing me and forcing me to be you damn chaperone! I've got better things to do! I have my own life to live and there is no way in hell that I'm gonna spend the rest of my limited free time tagging along with you and bringing you home every time you overdo it! You got me?!"

And oh, oh, OH! The next on his list was Calleigh Duquesne.

"Hey, Speed!" he exclaimed in a high pitched voice and duplicating the southern blonde's actions. "I was wonderin' if you'd do me a tinnie weenie favor and—nyeeeh! Nye-neeh! Nyeeh! NYEEEEH!!"

The now very pissed cynic didn't even bother finishing the sentence nor did he bother speaking on his behalf. He just went on with his unusual temper tantrum. It was childish but who freaking cares?! He was alone! He jumped to imitating Alexx Woods, then to Ryan Wolfe, and coming to Dan Cooper, and rolling on next to Natalia Boa Vista and Maxine Valera.

He was acting like a foolish and loopy person as he kept mimicking the actions, mannerisms and voices of his colleagues. Heck, even Sergeant **I**diotic-**A**ss-for-**B**rains got into the mix.

"Speedle!" he yelled, hearing his own replication of Rick Stetler bouncing off the steel walls of the elevator he was currently using. "If I were you, I'd make it a habit of mine to clean my gun every chance I get! A gun malfunctioning compromises everything, especially you!"

Quickly, he came back to his normal lazy drawl, which had anger all over it, and said, or rather, shouted, "Listen here, you freakin' pain-in-the-ass! If I hear you complain about how I handle my gun one more time, swear to God, I will really clean the damn thing up and shoot you with it for as many times as I want--Nobody will help you because everybody hates you and you can't do shit about it because you'd be dead by the time your stupid big fat head hits the linoleum floor!!"

He stopped abruptly. _God that felt good. _His hands were on his knees as he inhaled air heavily, his shoulders going up and down and his eyebrows still stuck together.

He leaned back on the cold steel wall, taking deeper breaths. His fists started to unclench, and gradually, he was calming down…and on time too.

He used his handkerchief to wiped the beads of sweat off his face from all the "infantilism"—_Wow. That was a very accurate way to put it--_ and tucked it back to his front pocket as he heard the ding and saw the doors slide open. He took another deep breath and unhurriedly let it pass through his lips. He had regained his composure.

Speed cleared his throat as he stepped outside.

"Hey, Speed," Lieutenant Horatio Caine called out the second he saw him. He was fiddling with his sunglasses. "If I could take a moment of your time, please. I'd like to discuss with you something that concerns procedure."

"Sure, H," he replied casually, obviously not bothered by his boss' request. _It's okay._ "What time?"

"I've got interrogation with Francis, so…an hour from now would be fine."

"See you in an hour, then, H," Speed said with a nod of understanding. _It was nothing, really._

"Okay, thank you." And with that, the redhead turned and walked to the opposite direction.

"There's my wingman!" said a familiar Cuban voice from behind. Speed turned and saw Eric Delko, who continued, saying, "Come with me to Club Hellion tonight. We're gonna hunt for my favorite."

"Yeah, whatever," the wingman said with no hint of objection. _Girls again, huh?_ He gave him his signature lazy smile. "It's not like I have any choice, right?"

Eric gave him a boyish grin before running to the department's garage.

Speed continued walking and grumbled a "Hey" as he passed Valera, Natalia and Cooper at one of the labs.

"Hey, Timmy," said Alexx Woods after bumping into him. "Are you okay? You look a little peaky. Have you been skipping meals again?"

"Uh…maybe?" _I know, you just care._

"Well, stop it," said mother hen. "It's not good for your health. Besides, I don't want my baby looking all lanky, now, do I?"

Speed gave her a little laugh and said he'd try eating right next time. She gave him a motherly smile and bade good-bye.

Not even five seconds after his last "bumping," he saw Calleigh waving a hand as she walked towards him.

"Hey, Tim," she said, wearing a delightful smile. "I was wonderin' if you don't mind getting' my trace results from Natalia. I kinda have my hands full at the moment."

"No prob," Speed told her. Once again, not showing an ounce of annoyance since he exited the elevator. _I can get through this._

"Thanks a bunch," she said, and went back to the ballistics lab.

Coming out of the trace lab, holding the trace results, Speedle was about to make his way to the ballistics lab when he unfortunately bumped into his favorite IAB agent.

"Hey, Stetler," he greeted the prick, trying hard not to frown at the sight of his face. _Why do I have to see you today? God hates me, doesn't he?_

"Oh, Speedle, it's you," Rick Stetler said, seeing him for the first time after their last _meeting_. "Did you even bother trying to clean your gun this week?"

Okay, that had to be it.

Speed's eye twitched as he looked blankly at the IAB agent, the trace results he was holding being crumpled as his hand clenched. He felt like he was going to lose it when he suddenly remembered what he had yelled while he was alone in the elevator.

Stetler saw a smile form on the young CSI's face.

"You know what, Stetler?" Speed said, retaining his smile. "I'll gladly clean my gun right now."

The Sergeant stared as the known cynic give him a last look and, finally, watched as the younger man walk away, smile intact.

He felt a sudden chill run down his spine and couldn't help but dread that something extremely bad was going to happen. To him, more importantly.

A couple of minutes later, Speed went out the locker room, holding up his newly polished gun.

"Oh, Stetler…"

* * *

Little Horatio: Well, how about that?! I think I did alright, don't you think so? Leave a comment if you want.

By the way, for those of you who don't know. Infantilism means immature or childish behavior of a mature person or individual. Perfect, ain't it?


	5. Intense

Chapter 5: Intense

Getting out of the heat of the sun, Lieutenant Horatio Caine went through the doors of the Miami-Dade Police Department, mixing himself with the inhabitants inside. He just came in from another crime scene and he did not look happy.

More than half of the staff from the police department turned their heads and watched the redheaded lieutenant as he walked rather hurriedly towards the elevator, taking off his sunglasses, and revealing flames from his serious cerulean eyes.

"I heard he had to go to 5 crime scenes this morning," one of them whispered carefully. "And it's not even nine-thirty yet."

They saw him move his lips, grumbling something, talking to himself. And his eyes burned brighter.

Yes. He was not the least bit happy. And it showed.

And if there's one thing the employees of the whole MDPD learned during moments like this, is never—NEVER—get in the face of Horatio Caine, especially, when he is not in the obvious mood to tolerate anything.

Only a complete idiot who has no care, at all, for his life would do such a thing.

And speaking of said idiot…

They gasped as they saw IAB Agent, Sergeant Rick Stetler zoom in, seconds before the doors closed, unaware of the irate redheaded monster inside. All they could do was pray for the courageously dumb soul.

Inside, Rick smirked, watching the doors close, happy that he got in. He turned around and couldn't help but curse under his breath, wishing that he'd taken the next one.

"Just get the hell out, Rick," Horatio said bluntly, still steaming in anger, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed across his chest, "if you don't want to be near me."

"Well, I can't, now, can I?" Rick recoiled, not taking his crap. The elevator was already moving.

"Well, it's not my fault, now, is it?" It was obvious he hated the guy. And the feeling was mutual.

What the hell? Rick thought. He decided to get close, to invade the redhead's personal space, just for the heck of it.

"You've got some nerve, Horatio," the brunette said. "Talking like some kind of big man when everybody knows you aren't."

Horatio's eye twitched and made the distance between them shorter. "At least…I don't talk like an asshole."

The IAB Agent frowned and gave the Lieutenant a shove. "You're the one who's like an asshole."

Of course, the Lieutenant shoved him back. "I beg…to differ."

"Oh, yeah?" Rick pushed him again, this time a little harder.

Horatio retaliated. "Yeah."

"You're the only one who seems to think that way."

Push.

"That's what you think…" Push. "…Rick."

"That's what I know…" Shove. "…Horatio."

The shoving went on, back and forth, each time a little harder than before. Then came the moment when Rick grabbed Horatio by the shirt and rammed him to the wall…hard.

The brunette smiled in satisfaction, still holding on to the other's shirt.

"Got anything else to say, Horatio?"

"Yeah." The redhead grabbed his shirt and slammed him much harder on the closed doors in one swift move. "I still think you're an asshole."

This time, he was the one who's smiling.

"Did you guys hear that?" Dan Cooper said by the receptionist's area.

"Hear what?" Natalia was with him.

"Some kind of noise." He heard another loud thud. "There it is again."

"Are you sure you're not imagining things?"

"No."

He listened carefully.

"I think it's coming from the elevator…"

THUD!

"You are such a prick, Rick."

THUD!!

"Likewise, I'm sure."

Horatio was up against the wall again. He glared at Rick, unaware that the elevator had already stopped. He drew a quick breath, then, with all he could muster, pushed him. He wanted the bastard's head to smash together with solid steel.

Unfortunately, it didn't happen.

Because, by the time he had shoved him, the doors slid open and both of them shot out the elevator, startling the crime lab populace.

Rick landed hard on the linoleum floor, and Horatio fell right on top of him. Then…the unthinkable happened.

Right when Horatio's head fell forward, Rick's skull bounced off the floor. Their lips collided together on impact and they ended up kissing each other…deeply.

"Holy--!" exclaimed Cooper, lucky that he wasn't eating or drinking anything or he would've definitely choked by now.

"Oh, my…" Natalia said, too stunned to talk.

Shaken to next week, both men scrambled to their feet, wiping their mouths, making gagging noise and coughing roughly, thinking that the essence of the other got stuck in their throat.

Horatio ran to the left, covering his mouth as if he was preventing himself from vomiting, while Rick, his face redder than Horatio's hair, ran the other way, ready to rinse his lips off with acid or drink a whole bottle of mouth wash.

The crowd the two men left remained silent; like Natalia, too stunned to talk. They didn't know whether to laugh or to be freaked out.

And from one of the labs, Eric and Calleigh came out.

"Guys?" Eric said, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are y'all looking like you've seen a ghost?" the bullet girl asked.

"More like two men kissing," Cooper snickered, pressing the save button on his cell phone, exiting from Videos, and then pocketing it.

"Excuse me?"

"And they say the two of you making out in the elevator was intense…"

Eric exchanged glances with Calleigh.

"…?"

* * *

Little Horatio: HA! HA! Go, HandS (Horatio and Stetler)! I love pairing the both of them. A lot of amusing things happen when they're together. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

How about you guys? Whaddya think?


	6. Sharing

Chapter 6: Sharing

"Knock, knock."

Horatio Caine looked up and saw Calleigh Duquesne, his ballistics expert, leaning by the side of the door.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice me," she said in her southern drawl. She walked to her boss' desk with a smile, handing some papers. "Here are the results on those casings you asked me to run."

The Lieutenant accepted the results and mumbled a "thank you" before going back to his in-progress paper work. After a while, he turned his attention to the bullet casings, flipping through the pages. He looked up.

"Can I...help you?" he said, lifting an eyebrow.

Calleigh never left the office. She was still there, still and observant. She smiled to herself, and then decided to sit down, watching Horatio.

"Is there something—"

"Horatio, are you okay?" she asked suddenly, cutting him off.

Horatio looked at her.

"You looked very...uh, what's the word?" She gave it to him straight and with a friendly smile. "Pissed."

The redhead considered this. He closed the folder he was reading a case from and placed the papers properly on his desk. He leaned back on his office chair.

"How can you tell?"

"Well, I have been working for you for almost 10 years now," she pointed out. She got the look he was giving her. "Okay. Working the 5 crimes you had to be in charge of this morning; that's one, the whole MDPD being as quiet as a cemetery; that's two." She stopped. "Do I really need to point out number three?"

Horatio's eyes narrowed. She knew what she meant. And he could still taste it in his mouth.

"Everybody's so scared going near you with the state you're currently in," Calleigh told him. "I even hesitated coming up here."

"I'm sorry," said the Lieutenant. He slumped in his seat. "Today's just...it sucks."

Calleigh laughed at her boss' choice of words. He rarely or, even, never, used them.

"Like you said," he continued, sounding tired, "5 crimes scenes, the Police department, and—" He abruptly stopped, recalling the event, making himself cringe. "—never mind."

The bullet girl giggled. "Too bad I didn't see it."

"Calleigh," Horatio warned.

She continued stifling her laugh, tears forming in her eyes.

"It's not funny." The Lieutenant was turning red.

"I'm sorry, Horatio," she calmed herself, wiping tears away from her green eyes. "It's just, I mean...WOW."

"Because of what happened, I'm scarred for life," admitted Horatio, not all that hopeful about completely forgetting the tragedy that befell him.

"I'm sure Sergeant Rick Stetler feels the same way," added Calleigh, smiling broadly.

Horatio gave her an exasperated look.

"Aw, come on," Calleigh pouted. "I was only jokin'."

Horatio wouldn't budge.

"Okay," she decided. "How about I make it up to you? Would lunch be okay?"

The redhead went back to his paper work. "I'm not hungry."

"Uh-uh. I insist." She stood up. "We have 5 cases today. You need your strength, and having an empty stomach is no way to work."

Somehow, Calleigh had dragged Horatio out of his office. Now, they were heading for the elevator with Calleigh in the lead. People started to stare.

Inside, Calleigh pressed a button and the doors closed. On the way down, the elevator suddenly jolted to a stop.

"Calleigh, are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine." She looked around. "What happened?"

"The elevator must've broke down," he answered.

The lights turned off.

"That's not good," Calleigh said.

Horatio tried the speaker. "This is Lieutenant Horatio Caine. With me is CSI Calleigh Duquesne. Is anybody there?"

They waited.

"_Yeah, H, we hear you." _It was Ryan Wolfe. _"We noticed the elevator making weird noises so we checked it out."_

"What's the situation?" asked the redhead. "Is it serious?"

"_Uh..."_

"Guys," Calleigh called out. "What's the matter?"

"_Calleigh?" _

She recognized that voice. "Speed?"

"_I—ow!"_ screeched the speaker. _"DELKO!"_

"_Calleigh, are you okay!"_ came Eric's voice. _"Ouch—hey!!"_

"_That's for pushing me outta the way, ass,"_ Speed said in irritation.

Horatio ran a hand through his face as Calleigh said in hopelessness, "Oh, boy."

"_Okay..."_ Ryan's voice came back. _"Anyway, the elevator's banged up pretty bad. Maintenance said it's like somebody kept playing with the emergency stop button."_

Horatio noticed as Calleigh went still...and red.

"_Why are you looking at me for?!"_ Eric's voiced boomed. _"It's not like I had anything to do with it!"_

"_Says you,"_ Speed answered back.

"Guys," Horatio spoke up. Everybody went quiet. "For how long are we talking about?"

"_Maintenance said it's possible that it may take the whole afternoon to fix everything."_

Calleigh leaned on the metal wall and slid to the floor, sitting down. "Great."

Horatio gave a silent sigh and looked down before going back to the speaker, saying, "Just do what you can, okay? And guys?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Keep me posted."

"_Will do, H."_

The redhead heaved another sigh then, like Calleigh, slumped to the floor. It was already getting hot.

"I guess we're stuck here for awhile," he said, taking of his jacket off. He looked at his companion. "You okay?"

Calleigh lifted her head from her arms. "Yeah...I was just looking forward to...something."

"Like what?"

Calleigh smiled. "It's nothin'."

Horatio tilted his head and gave a small and soft smile. "Please?" A pause. "Tell me?" Another pause. "To pass the time?"

"Okay," she agreed. "To pass the time."

"Thank you."

She set aside a strand of golden hair that was blocking her view of what little light they had inside the elevator.

"Well...I was lookin' forward to havin' one of those delicious cookies at Anne's shop."

Horatio's eyes widened a little. "Anne's shop?"

"Yeah..." she let out dreamily. "Those peanut butter cookies..."

"Peanut butter cookies?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"Hunh." Horatio went silent for a few seconds before he inadvertently laughed out loud.

"Horatio?"

"I...I'm sorry." He smiled. "That was impolite. I'm sorry."

"What's so funny?"

"It's nothing."

It was Calleigh's turn to give him a look. "Come on. To pass the time?"

"I...I don't know..."

"It's only fair, Horatio," Calleigh mentioned.

Horatio shook his head. "It's...I just remembered something when I was a kid."

"Oooh!" Calleigh's interest skyrocketed. "Childhood memories. Let's hear 'em."

"Okay, um, uh..." Horatio cleared his throat. "When we were kids—Raymund was 4 and I was 7—our mother baked the best peanut butter cookies in the world. But, the problem was, she would only bake them on very rare occasions."

"Go ahead."

"At that time, I had, uh—" He licked his lips. His throat was already dry. "—I had, um, issues about sharing the cookies back then, and..."

"You wanted them all to yourself," Calleigh finished the sentence for him.

"Uh, yeah," Horatio smiled. "So, um, what I did was, I told Raymund that every person who turns four suddenly gets allergic to something. And I told him that he was allergic to peanut butter cookies."

"What?" she laughed in disbelief. "Don't tell me he believed you."

"He didn't believe me."

Horatio laughed softly. "I remember telling him I was allergic to carrots but still ate them, because I had to. It explained why my hair was red. Then, I told him if he ate one of mom's cookies, tiny peanut bugs would crawl out of his nose, ears and mouth, and he won't be able to talk ever again, much less eat more cookies."

"You're bad, Horatio!" laughed Calleigh, slapping him at the arm. "What happened next?"

"Well," he said, trying to remember the scene, "I found out that Raymund told our mother to confirm my story, whether it was true or not."

"And?"

Horatio chuckled. "I got in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Aside from not getting any cookies?" he said. "I was sent to my room to think about what I did."

"Aw..."

"I was lucky Raymund didn't tell dad," Horatio muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"_Hey, H! Cal!"_

Thankful for the interruption, Horatio pressed the speaker as he stood up, a trickle of sweat coming down from his temple. "Yes, Eric."

"_Maintenance's about to connect a wire..."_

"Got'cha, Eric."

A second later, the lights came back and the elevator gave a little jolt. Instead of going down, they came right back up again. The doors slid open.

"Welcome back, you two," Speed said as they got out. "Looks like you guys came out of a sauna."

"We didn't sweat that bad," Calleigh told him. "Just a little."

She smiled and saw the look on the redhead's face. She gave a nod.

"Where are you guys going?" Ryan asked, seeing Horatio and Calleigh head for the stairs.

"Lunch," Horatio said over his shoulder.

"Anne's shop," Calleigh added, smiling beautifully.

* * *

Little Horatio: Come on, admit it. Every one of us has sharing issues, right? I mean, even H has 'em. Don't lie to yourself.

Anyway, hoped you guys liked the chap. Just leave a review if it's okay. Thanks for reading this!

P.S. I didn't know CSI Junkie Aly posted a fic about peanut butter cookies. I just logged in after along time of, well...not logging in. Just wanted to say that I did not, in any way, copy anything from her...him...I'm not sure. Just wanted you guys to know!! I hope there isn't any misunderstanding!


	7. Cheating

Chapter 7: Cheating

She was taken aback by what she just watched. How can that be possible? It was the most unexplainable thing she had ever seen in her life! It was outrageous!

And, right at that moment, as if on cue, she saw the redheaded lieutenant march across the hallway. He was going to the elevator.

Not wanting to lose him, she put down the cell phone, picked up her purse and went straight to him, saying hurriedly over her shoulder, "Thanks!"

"No problem!" the young face smirked massively from behind, watching her jog towards…Horatio Caine. "Uh-oh…" He glanced from left to right and inconspicuously disappeared underneath the receptionist's desk.

"Horatio!"

The redhead looked up. "Marisol?"

Horatio pushed "open" with his right hand long enough to let her in. He was carrying a bottle of water with the other. Then, when the doors closed, he said, "I didn't know you were here."

"I forgot to tell you." Instead of giving him an apologetic smile, she just gave him a look. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Lieutenant."

Horatio smiled. They've been separated for quite a while, and both of them knew it.

"Which bone?" he grinned. He opened the bottle and took a drink.

"I hear you've been cheating on me behind my back."

Horatio inhaled more water than he intend as he gasped, feeling some of it go out his nose. He couldn't believe his ears. What was she saying? Was it about yesterday when he and Calleigh were stuck in this exact elevator? When he shared a childhood story? They had spent quite an awful amount of time being trapped; maybe people started talking, spreading false rumours.

"Listen…" the redhead coughed, wiping water off his chin, "…whatever you heard, it's not true."

Marisol shook her head disbelievingly as Horatio cleaned himself up with his handkerchief.

"Don't lie to me, Horatio," she said. "About a dozen guys saw everything that happened."

Now Horatio was definitely confused. "Saw?" They were inside an elevator. How could they?

"I'm okay with it," Marisol told her husband with a shrug. "You know, if you ever feel that you need to explore your gay side…"

"My what?" Horatio gasped, appalled and struck by what his wife just said. "Mari, what are you talking about?"

"Look, Horatio," Marisol giggled, "I just wanted you to know that if you ever feel the urge to kiss Rick like that, then go ahead. I swear, I won't be holding any grudges."

Horatio was flabbergasted. This was worse than he thought.

"Honestly, it's perfectly fine with me." She looked at him, trying her best not to laugh. She found her husband's reaction amusing. "But that's just with Rick, okay? No one else."

"H-how…who…?"

"Dan got the whole thing in his cell," she told him without guilt. "He let me watch a few minutes before I saw you."

Marisol heard the _ding dong_ of the elevator and stepped out once the metal doors opened. She noticed that Horatio didn't get off. He was still inside, holding the doors open.

Horatio raised a finger and said darkly, "Excuse me for one minute, please."

And Horatio consumed exactly that, only sixty seconds.

He got back to the floor where Marisol was waiting for him. He felt better now and the way he smiled as he got off the elevator and joined her showed.

"You did something to him, didn't you?" Marisol asked suspiciously as her husband held her hand. She knew what he was capable of.

"You can say that…" He smiled a triumphant smile. "I taught him a small lesson…"

"What was that?"

Horatio looked at her and just kept on smiling.

While on the Crime Lab floor, Alexx, Natalia and Valera were watching Cooper standing from a far, in tears.

"What happened to him?" asked Alexx in curiosity. Maybe it was worth a gossip.

"We don't know," Valera answered, shaking her head.

"One second he was with the lieutenant then, he just ended up like that after H left," Natalia said, confused. "Their talk didn't even last for 10 seconds."

"Maybe something tragic happened."

Indeed, something tragic did happen, the three of them just couldn't see it.

In front of Dan Cooper was what used to be his beautiful razor cell phone, spread on the palm of his hand. Now, it was just junk. Plain old junk.

"Why take it out on Sasha?" Dan sobbed to no one in particular as he stared at his phone and its pieces.

He hung his head limply from his shoulders.

Sasha...?

* * *

Little Horatio: Well, you don't have anyone to blame but yourself, Cooper! And can you guys believe what Mari said to H?! I mean, what came over me!? Writing such a thing like that? And Sasha?! Cooper's a nut for giving such a hideous name to his cell phone!

Anyway...

Go, HandS!!

Hope you guys liked it! Leave me some of your thoughts!


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